Monster
by Kijutsu
Summary: We know that Gordon Walker is a badass, cold hearted, stop at nothing vampire hunter. After all, he killed his own sister when she was taken by a fang. But what exactly happened to turn him into the monster Sam and Dean encountered? Pre series.
1. Chapter 1

MONSTER - Part One - 

**Disclaimer:** Well, working full time means my wallet aint exactly bare, but I still have no say in what you see those lovely boys doing on your TV. Supernatural's not mine, nor are the characters. This story, whilst based on what we know from the show, is mine.

**A/N - **So, believe it or not, Kij has been doing something; I even have proof, unlike that alien vis-… not the time, sorry. It seems I have a penchant for picking themes that are not exactly run of the mill so I hope you brave these waters and come out, if not a wild, kidnap-the-author-and-force-her-to-live-out-your-fantasies fan at least a little bit cleaner. And if you do come out the former, well, eep. Now, just before I quit this rambling a huge thankyou to captain obvious, otherwise known as InSecret, obviously, for being magic as usual. Enjoy!

The credits rolled onto the screen and the young man lifted the remote to turn off the television, leaving himself with only moonlight by which to make it back to his room. But this house had been home his whole life, and he knew his way, moving confidently around the room.

He had just reached the foot of the stairs when he heard the sound of glass splintering above, and was already flipping his father's gun cabinet open when his sister's screams travelled down to him. He grabbed the rifle his father kept loaded and loped up the stairs, swinging around the corner with the gun already raised.

He hesitated for a second in the doorway of his sister's bedroom, frightened of the dark-clothed, hulking figure he could see leaning over the bed. But he moved quickly when Selene called out.

'Gordon! Help me!'

The intruder looked towards the door, revealing a broad, bearded face, as he was momentarily distracted. Gordon took the opportunity, aimed and fired with the skill of someone who had been trained to shoot since he was old enough to be suspicious of strangers. But he was forced to recoil quickly, stunned. The man barely reacted to the shot. In fact, he didn't even seem aware of it, despite the fact that blood dripped from the small, perfect hole above his left eyebrow. He grinned at Gordon with teeth that were too long and sharp to be human.

'That was stupid, kiddo,' he growled, before advancing swiftly and throwing Gordon against the wall with an ease that made it look more like he was handling a toy than a human. The monster ignored the wheeze that burst from Gordon's stunned body and turned back to the girl who was huddled on the bed, eyes wide and frightened.

'You'd fight like a wildcat, wouldn't you?' he crooned. 'I like that in a girl.' He pinned her down with one hand pressed against her too-fast heartbeat, ignoring her struggles. 'You might be worth keeping around after all…'

Gordon came round to the sound of his little sister's terrified cries. His vision shimmered hazily and he could taste the sharp tang of blood in the air. He tried to scramble to his feet, but could only manage to blink blearily.

By then, Selene was gone.

He sank back into the haze.

…

The voices came from a distance. He wasn't sure if the faces were only in his mind, or really there, in front of him…

'Jesus, Gordon! What happened? What the hell happened!'

'She's gone… and the blood… oh God oh God… I think he's dead!'

'Relax honey, he's just stunned…' A cool hand pressed again Gordon's cheek and he turned his head a little. 'Dial 911 honey, stay nice and calm, tell them what happened… I'll look after our boy.' Gordon muttered something and the hand withdrew from his face.

His father was moving around the room. Gordon felt like he was floating in time until the older man returned and knelt down, his breath warming the air between them until the boy felt a cool bottle pressed against his lips. He tilted his head back obligingly and the whiskey set a fire in his belly. He coughed hard and came back to himself…

'That'll make you feel better, son.' His father was looking at him with piercing dark eyes and Gordon tried to focus his attention. 'I know it's hard, son, but do you remember what happened?' A tightly controlled tremor in his voice was all that told Gordon his father was as panicked as he was.

Gordon started to tremble as the memories of earlier that night assaulted him. His head was shaking back and forth, but from fear, not a lack of recollection.

'It's alright,' soothed his father. 'Let's go downstairs. You can do it.'

Gordon tried to struggle upright, but his muscles were still throbbing from being slammed into the wall, and he slumped back down, groaning in pain. His father bent down and picked him up without fuss, the older, larger man looking strangely noble with the lanky eighteen year old spilling out of his arms.

Gordon's father flinched at each moan that escaped Gordon, no matter how slowly he inched himself along the corridor or how carefully he lowered his bulk down the stairs.

'What did he say?' Gordon's mother looked up from the phone as her husband lowered their son onto the couch. Her eyes, normally full of laughter, had turned almost black with dread, her already diminutive figure appearing shrunken with worry.

'Still nothing, but –'

Gordon's father was cut off by his son's sudden interruption as Gordon pushed himself up off the cushions a little and sobbed, 'It wasn't human! A monster… it was a monster!'

His father rubbed a rough hand against Gordon's shoulders and murmured worriedly to his wife, 'I think you'd better call an ambulance. He's hurt real bad.'

…

'Why the hell won't you listen to me? I'm telling you, that guy wasn't a serial killer – it wasn't humaneven! There's some monster, a _real _monster out there, and you're not even listening! Whatever took my sister… it was _Something Else_.'

The trio standing outside the hospital room pretended they were unable to hear the yells that had been coming from Gordon's bed for the past few hours, speaking urgently to one another in low tones.

'Do you know how long he's going to be like this?'

'I'm sorry Mr. Walker, we really can't be sure.' The young doctor gave his clipboard a token glance before continuing to address Gordon's parents. 'The MRI doesn't show any signs of major trauma, so we can only conclude that whilst the roots of your son's, ah, delusion, are probably due to the mild concussion he received, his continued attachment to them is more psychological than anything else. You might want to consider talking to a psychiatrist. If you'd like I can send one of the hospital's specialists down?'

At the doctor's words, Gordon's parents drew together, taking comfort from each other in their grief. Mrs. Walker leaned into her husband who shook his head minutely at the doctor's suggestion.

'Do you… do you think it's okay if we take him home now?' he asked. 'Maybe he'll relax a little there…'

The doctor's smile was trained and shallow. 'Well, medically he's fine to go, so yes. But bring him back if you need to.' As he spoke, the man's eyes travelled to the sign that pointed to the psych ward, leaving no illusion as to what he was insinuating.

'Of course, sometimes grief like this can just work itself out.'

His attempt to be reassuring failed dismally.

…

Gordon's return home didn't have the effect his parents had hoped. He moved like a shadow throughout the house, doing nothing to restore the laughter and noise that had once filled their lives. His mother asked him every morning if he would tell them what had really happened, and his parents fought late into the night about it.

Eventually something had to give, and Gordon would remember the morning it did forever. Like a video, it played over and over in his head as he got older.

…

Breakfast in the Walker household had become a grim affair. Gordon hunched sulkily over his food at one end of the table while his father sat at the other end reading the paper. Mrs. Walker hovered between eating and cleaning the kitchen, a nervous habit she had picked up since her daughter's disappearance.

She turned from scrubbing the front of the stove to look at Gordon, paused to bite her lip, and then asked him the same question she had asked three times already that morning.

'Please Gordon. Honey, we just _need _to know.'

He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. 'I _keep _telling you what happened, Mama,' he said desperately. 'I know it sounds crazy, but it's what I saw, it's what's happened!'

'Yeah, that's right honey.' His father's voice was laced with sarcasm and grief. He folded his newspaper flat so he could fix Gordon with an unobstructed hard stare. 'Don't you remember? It was a monster. A nasty vampire stole our little girl. That's what happened, right Gordon?'

'What do you want me to do?' Gordon demanded. 'I can only tell you what I saw happen. I _know _it sounds stupid, but I'm not lying!'

His father's face crumpled. 'I wish you wouldn't do this Gordon,' he said sadly. 'You can't keep hurting your mother, hurting me, like this. If you don't stop with this stupid story you can't stay here.' His voice broke a little but he repeated firmly, 'You just can't.'

'Where would you send me?' Gordon shot to his feet, his chair scraping backwards. 'You can't just kick me out!' A fearful thought flashed beneath this defiant mask. _Can you?_

'We could take you back to the hospital. There are people who can help you,' said his mother gently, reaching across the table in an attempt to pat his hand. The boy flinched back, realization dawning.

'You can't send me to the psych ward! What the hell is wrong with you? I'd run away first!'

'Well you just might have to!' roared his father. 'We don't know what else to do with you Gordon; you should be better now. I'm going to take you down there first thing in the morning.'

'Yeah, well, fuck you!' Gordon spat back, already running up the stairs to his room.

He pulled out an old bag and started to throw things in at random. _How dare they try and send me away? _He fumed, _they're my parents – they should believe me! Who the hell would call their own son crazy and threaten to send him away?_ He steadfastly chose to continue ignoring the part of his mind that wondered if, just maybe, they were right. What if he was going crazy?

He knew he shouldn't believe his own story, wouldn't believe it if someone else had said it, but he desperately wanted his parents to play along, just like they had with Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny. He wanted them to let him down slowly so that one day he realized he too simply didn't believe it anymore.

He wanted to be able to dismiss the memory, blame it on shock or trauma, but it was all just too real. He could still hear the awful sucking sound as the thing's teeth – _fangs ­_– retracted, and the echo of his sister's screams shattered his dreams every night. Then, of course, there was the gunshot. Nothing human, nothing _living_, should have survived that. The fucker should have been bleeding on the floor and instead it didn't flinch.

Gordon stopped and looked down at the football trophy in his hand. He couldn't let himself be taken to the psych ward, but there was no way he was going to lie to his parents just to keep them happy.

Gordon put the trophy back down, knowing what he had to do. It was time for him to leave home, but he was going to have to be smart about it. He was going to have to start thinking about survival. After all, who knew what was out there anymore.

…

Gordon resisted the urge to fill the house with light, knowing that he needed the dark to get away. He swallowed the sick feeling working its way up his throat and lowered his duffel bag to the floor beside his father's gun cabinet before easing the door open.

He hesitated for a moment over the rifle before picking up his father's old service pistol and sliding a box of ammo out of a drawer hidden in the back. He winced at the rattle of bullets as he returned his bag to his shoulder, but there was no sudden rush of noise above him, no sign that his parents knew what he was doing. Gordon slipped to the front door before hissing quietly at the challenge of the lock. The big old door would give a noisy click when he turned it, almost guaranteed to wake his parents. He decided he didn't have a choice and flipped the lock quickly, not bothering to shut the door as he dashed for his car.

As Gordon pulled out of the driveway he saw that all the lights in the house were still off. His parents hadn't even woken. Something unformed twisted in his chest, something that hinted at abandoned children and parents who didn't care enough to wake up in time. While the house was still in view he drove slowly, still secretly hoping that he would see them come running out of the house, banging on the window until he rolled it down, let them convince him to stay with a promise that it would all be okay in the end. With anything really.

…

Mrs. Walker's death certificate said she died of heart failure. Anyone who had seen her final days would have said she died from the overwhelming grief of losing both her children.

Three days after his wife's death, Mr. Walker blew his brains out with the same shotgun that had failed to save his daughter.

**TBC.**

**A/N: **This is the part where I say step out of the shadows, scratch my chin in a slow, mesmerising sort of way and say "The end? I don't think so." Then, out of nowhere (cos there's no jukebox in this scene), dark, melodious music starts playing, building up to a deafening _dun dun dun! _Basically what I'm trying to say is there's a lot left to come before we really get to see how Gordon became the evil son of a bitch we know and love, or at least love to hate.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** Holy crap, Kij updating on time, must be a miracle. So I wrote this as a one shot (which would be why these chapters are rather short) and really it's just at the edit phase. Lucky for you. I hope you enjoy the second instalment of this trilogy, more than the first, as it's the king of thing that builds y'know. Thanks always to InSecret, magic!

**- Part Two - **

Harley would tell people later that when he found him 'the kid' was barely more than skin and bones. But the gruelling months he had spent on the street had given him a hardness that suited Harley's teaching. And so, against his better judgment, he took the boy under his wing, and taught him everything he knew.

…

Gordon never spoke about the months before his mentor found in a dark alleyway, the known hunting ground of a vampire couple, except to say he'd been looking for information on vampires and that he wanted to become a hunter.

Harley suspected there was more to it when noted the split lip and sullen jut of the kid's chin, but a lifetime of hunting evil hadn't left Harley well equipped to deal with sensitive issues, so he didn't press. He thought maybe the kid would tell him eventually, but Gordon rarely said more than he had to.

It was from Harley that Gordon learnt to hunt vampires. They tracked some fangs across the country, and a whole year passed before Harley finally asked: 'Why?'

'A fang. It took my sister.'

Harley saw a flash of something gentle before Gordon's face hardened again. He recognized the look as barely disguised sorrow and a spark of sympathy flared in his gut.

'Well why didn't you say so? We'll track 'em down!'

'NO!' Gordon was adamant. 'I want to do this one on my own.'

Harley chuckled derisively. 'You're not ready, and who knows what they'll do to you before you are.'

'I am ready!'

'You haven't killed one vampire on your own yet. Go this alone and you won't survive.'

'I. Want. To. Do. This. Kill.' Gordon was glaring at his mentor, but Harley didn't budge.

'I'm going after them tomorrow,' the older man declared. 'It's up to you whether or not you're coming too.'

He took Gordon's silence as unwilling assent, confirmed the next morning when he found Gordon waiting in the passenger seat of his truck. They drove in silence, unbroken until they hit the state border, when Harley announced: 'You're going to have to tell me what happened.'

Gordon's response was military and emotionless.

'Fang climbed in through the upstairs window, proceeded to attack my sister. I entered, armed, one rifle. Shot the creature, which had no effect, it knocked me out.'

Harley found it odd that the creature had left the kid relatively unharmed, but didn't comment on it. Instead he grinned and teased, 'You _shot _it?'

'I was unaware that it was anything other than human,' grunted Gordon defensively.

'Poor souls, no idea what's out there,' sighed Harley. The man's uncle had been a hunter, trained him since birth to know what was out there and kill it where it lurked. 'So you're planning to specialize in fangs?'

It was Harley's idea of small talk, the hunter equivalent of, 'So you're thinking about a journalism major?'

'That is the plan, sir.'

'Well you've got a good arm on you, that's the main thing. Play baseball in high school?'

'And football, sir.'

'Real athletic then.' Harley nodded approvingly. 'Were you captain?'

'No, sir, too many rich white for that.'

'Yeah, they always get it, huh.'

'Seems that way, sir.'

It was the best conversation they had in the six months it took to track down the vampires that had abducted Selene. The closer they got the harder it became for Harley to get anything out of his obsessive young protégé.

…

'We go in tonight.'

A short nod; he'd have missed it he wasn't watching for it.

'I think you're ready for the kill.'

'Sir.'

The acknowledgment was followed by another quick nod. Still Gordon refused to show any real emotion. Harley remembered his excitement at getting his first kill after years of being left out in the cold. It wasn't normal for a hunter to be so indifferent towards his craft, but Harley sensed something deeper in Gordon's behaviour. He dismissed the unsettled feeling in his gut. The kid would make a good hunter, that was what mattered.

…

The group didn't bother to check their noise as they drank and partied late into the night. The farm was deserted, and anyway, a callous twist and snap of the neck was enough to deal with any townsperson silly enough to wander out this far.

In the centre of the group a young girl, dark as night, wrapped herself around their leader, whispering seductively in his ear. The pair grinned at each other, looks which held no mercy.

They barely even flinched as the roar of a chainsaw filled the air. With the noise they couldn't fail to see the big man standing at the edge of the clearing, an equally ruthless expression in his eyes.

The vampires all stepped forward, around their leader and his newest mate. The chainsaw might take down a few of them, but the rest would get their revenge. Only the dark-skinned girl looked past the bold hunter, and trembled, enough for her partner to notice.

'Selene?' he questioned her.

She shook her head. 'I'll be back. It's fine, Latro. I promise.'

She had seen the young black man still standing in the darkness of the surrounding trees, the glint of a machete hanging from an unwilling hand. She knew him, knew how easily he could become a fearsome enemy. But not to her, never to her.

'Hey brother,' she said softly as she sauntered over to him, all swinging hips and shrewd smile. She grinned at the shock that registered on his face.

He stumbled forward. 'Selene?' he gasped. 'But… but how?'

'Oh baby, didn't you figure it out yet?' she cajoled sweetly. 'He never wanted to kill me, he wanted to make me his.' Her smile widened as she showed him her fangs. They glinted in the moonlight, bright with blood, and Gordon cringed and stepped back, resisting the urge to retch at the metallic tang that filtered through the air.

'We'll fix this,' he said desperately. 'There's a way… there's got to be a way for me to save you!'

'I don't _want _you to fix it!' His sister's tone changed; suddenly she was vicious and angry. 'Latro's taken me so high and I don't ever want to come down. I'm sorry baby, but I'm never going to be saved, not now that he's changed me.' She shot a wolfish grin over her shoulder at her lover, curly hair bouncing on her shoulders.

'I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him!' Gordon charged forward with this angry statement, only stopping when Selene stepped into his path, using her whole body to block him.

'You couldn't the first time,' she hissed. 'I doubt you've learnt much since then. Besides, even if you did manage it… I would _rip you to shreds_.' She pulled away, letting her hand caress his cheek almost fondly. 'You wouldn't stand a chance big brother.'

He blinked and she was gone, back in Latro's arms. He howled with an anger borne mostly from grief and ran towards them. A few of the younger vampires stepped back in surprise, older ones in amusement. Most ignored him. From across the battlefield Harley looked up, shouted something that didn't even register with Gordon. The young hunter was completely focused on the leader, and the undead man glanced up, sensing the fight. A wicked grin spread beneath his beard.

'Well, well, well…'

'Gordon, get back!' Gordon paid no attention to Harley, even as the man ran towards him, swinging his heavy chainsaw like a toy. 'Gordon…' The older hunter paused, eyes widening as he recognized the resemblance between his protégé and the leader's mate. 'Gordon!' he yelled again. But Latro had already stalked forward. He smiled cunningly through his dark beard, his eyes full of unforgiving laughter. His skin seemed to glow luminously, pale and sickly, almost blue.

'Remember me, huh kid? You seem stupider.'

He reached for Gordon, smirking with amusement. He was still grinning when Harley swung the chainsaw, severing his head.

Harley didn't wait for Latro's head to hit the dirt before grabbing Gordon, running away from the fight and Selene's rising wail. The sound sent chills down his spine.

'I'm sorry, Jesus Christ, I'm sorry…'

Harley's sympathies didn't even register with Gordon. He had been reduced to the mumbling blankness that had overwhelmed him the last time he had met Latro, allowing the older hunter to drag him helplessly away.

…

Harley didn't know what to do to help Gordon, he didn't even know if the kid would reach normal again. Well, relative normality anyhow, a hunter's normal. So he did what he needed to do, and took advantage of Gordon's state.

…

Gordon's arms were aching when he stirred the next evening. He automatically pulled his hands up to scrub the sleep from his face, and winced in pain when he discovered they were tied behind him. The shock woke him enough to notice the hard corner of the post pressed against his back. He could see Harley shifting about the room inspecting the weapons.

'Why?'

'Did you really think I'd let you come with me after that little display?' Harley didn't even turn around, a disregard that only inflamed Gordon's anger.

'You can't fucking do this! She's my sister. _I'm _the only one who gets to decide what happens to her! You're just like every other heartless son of a bitch out there. You can't do this! You _can't_!' Gordon's anger dissipated suddenly and he slumped against the post. It took Harley a second to realize he was crying, but this time he looked around.

'Gordon, son,' he said gently, 'I know this is hard for you. I don't want you to see her like that.'

'You knew.' Gordon's eyes were hot with blame.

'No.' Harley shook his head. 'I hoped you were right and the vampire just took her body, but I couldn't guarantee it. I've never seen a vampire who only wanted to change a person.' He took a breath, steeling himself. 'We only have one choice, Gordon. I can't let your sister live – she'll only want to kill us both anyway.'

Gordon glared at him and said coldly, 'Fuck you.'

Harley's grin was laced with pain. 'Now that's why I tied you to a pole. I don't want you to see this, and I can't let you stop me. I'm sorry to do this to you kid, but you should learn how to get out a tight spot anyway.'

'You're not even going to come back for me?' Hurt overrode the angry lines on Gordon's face.

'If I can, I will,' shrugged Harley. 'But I don't know how many were left.'

And with that troubled prediction he turned back to his preparations.

…

Harley gently tapped the side of Gordon's face to wake him. 'I have some food for you, then I have to go.'

Carefully, Harley fed Gordon a sandwich he'd picked up at a nearby drive-thru. Gordon barely held his head up, not bothering to protest being fed like a child. In return, Harley pretended not to see his tears.

When the meal was over Harley stood up. 'I'm leaving my truck here,' he announced. 'All the equipment is in it; I'm only taking what I need for tonight. If I'm not back by dawn get yourself out of there and _drive_. Don't think she'll spare you just because she was your sister.'

He didn't want for Gordon's reply, just cast him one last, long look and walked out of the room towards the car he'd stolen for the night. His eyes stung and he wasn't sure he could have managed a proper goodbye had he tried, not like that with Gordon slumped pitifully on the floor.

Gordon lifted his head to watch as the door swung shut on Harley and the life that they'd built. By the time the latch slipped into place he couldn't see past the haze of salty liquid pooling in his eyes. With his head lowered again he allowed himself to recognize the hurt that had forced him to pull over and curl up in the back seat of the car the night he ran away from home.

He had finally found someone to fill the space his parents had left. And better, Harley hadn't questioned Gordon's belief that his sister's attacker wasn't human. Instead, he had understood and known how to explain it to him – the way a parent should.

He knew there was a hardness about him that hadn't been there before, but Gordon thought that Harley's company had washed away his issues with his parents. And only now that it had returned in full force did he understand that Harley had only been a buffer between him and the pain.

Gordon leaned forward, pulling against the ropes, welcoming the hot rush of pain that lanced through his arms, and the way it banished, if only for a second, the thoughts spinning through his mind. He sat like that until his tears were more the result of physical pain than emotional, and then he leaned backwards again.

Maybe Harley would come back.

But Gordon had heard his sister's cry and seen years of her strong will at work. Harley didn't know what he was up against. Another sob filled him. Harley wasn't just hunting down the girl he had seen last night, the vampire who had clung to her leader and lover with an unfeeling smile. He was also hunting down the little sister who would sneak into Gordon's room and mess up his stuff, knowing he'd forgive her as soon as she smiled at him. The sister who had cried so hard before her first day of school until he had promised he would be there the whole time, only a classroom wall between them. Harley was killing the sister who had slept peacefully above him, dreaming of her prom night.

The sister Gordon had failed to protect.

**TBC and concluded in part three. **


	3. Chapter 3

**- Part Three - **

Gordon realized he must have dozed at some point, because when he looked up towards the window his salt-rimmed eyes teared against the light of the pale dawn. He realized that Harley should be back at any minute, and felt an uncontrollable leap in his chest at the thought.

There was a sudden thump and the door burst open. In the concentration of light Gordon could make out the outline of one person. He was just choking out 'Harley…' when the figure came into focus.

The man was Harley's height, but thin and light on his feet. He stalked soundlessly into the room before dropping something that had been slumped over his shoulders. It hit the ground with a sick crunch, and Harley's face looked unseeingly up at Gordon. The young hunter let out a horrified yelp attempting to scramble back even as the hard edge of the post pressed into his back.

'Listen up.'

Gordon automatically met the vampire's eyes, and shuddered.

'This' – the creature used a careless foot to push Harley's body closer – 'is a warning message from Selene. Your hunter friend came after us and this is what happened to him. Your sister is willing to spare you as long as you don't come after us too.' The vampire bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile. 'Personally, I'd just kill you now.'

He stepped over the body, _Harley's body_, thought Gordon dazedly, and circled behind the young man. Gordon's heart beat rapidly in his chest, his breath short. _This is it; I should have gotten out of here when I had the chance_. But the vampire simply bent down and began sawing at the ropes.

'We're moving on,' he informed Gordon. 'Selene and a few others will stay for a while to make sure you don't try to follow us. If you do… well, you're not going to get a second chance.'

With a final stroke of the knife Gordon jerked free, his arms throbbing with renewed circulation. By the time he looked up, panting from pain, the vampire was standing at the door. He flashed Gordon another savage grin before leaving, head bowed against the strengthening sunlight.

…

Once Gordon could move his arms again without grimacing too much, thanks in part to a handful of painkillers, his mind turned to food. All he could dig up was an empty chip packet under the passenger seat of Harley's car, so reluctantly he decided to find a diner.

…

Gordon glared at the giant neon sign that seemed determined to burn the word _Sandy's _into his skull. With a derisive snort he pushed open the door, gave the place a brief, contemptible once-over, and slung himself into a booth at the back, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

'How can I… uh – are you alright?' The pretty, twenty-something waitress who had approached him was trying to conceal her shock, and Gordon realized for the first time how awful he must look.

He forced a grin. 'It's okay. I was stupid enough to let my friends take me on a bender. I deserve everything I get. A coffee and breakfast would make my morning though.' The lies rolled easily off his tongue.

The waitress looked him up and down, assessing the tense posture and dirty clothes, and seemed to decide that he was telling the truth, because she smiled.

'Okay then. Well, you picked a good corner, away from the neon lights.' She grabbed a coffee jug, warming on a percolator, and a mug, filling it to the brim. 'I'll go and get you the breakfast special,' she said. 'It's perfect for a hangover.'

Gordon's smile this time was backed by gratitude as he wrapped his hands around the warm cup, slouching against the comfortable red leather and chrome seats. While he waited he looked around, taking in the mission brown wood-panelled walls, mostly obscured by old movie posters. In comparison to the floor, which was covered in multi-coloured linoleum that brought to mind the word 'puke', it seemed like a good design choice.

'There you go sugar.'

Gordon drew his eyes away from the strangely mesmerising surroundings to look up at the waitress. She placed a plate loaded with greasy sausages, fried eggs and toast on the table. Gordon thought perhaps he spotted a hash brown buried somewhere in there too.

'Thanks, uh' – he looked for a name badge – 'Lisa.'

'It's my pleasure. Now you promise to let me know if you need anything else.'

'Uh huh.' His mouth was already full of food.

The doorbell chimed and Lisa turned to greet the new customers, who seemed far more inclined to conversation than Gordon. He watched as they sat down, a group of teenagers in college jackets, too engrossed in their own interactions to spare him more than a glance. One of them said something too quietly for him to hear and the others laughed. Gordon wondered at the twinge of longing that shuddered through him.

For the first time in a long time he thought about the friends he'd left behind. He'd never have in-jokes with them anymore, never go the movies or attend parties. They would probably go on to lead nice normal lives, whilst he would live in nightmares. He wondered if he'd ever be able to have ordinary dealings with people again. He had finally let Harley get close to him, and then the man had died. Somehow it seemed easier to stay alone.

So why did he feel like he was Peter Pan standing at the window, watching while everyone else moved on? He put his head down and focused on his food. He already had enough to deal with.

…

Back at the cabin, Gordon paced, working out the final details of the hunt. He'd need dead man's blood. He paused for a moment, wondering how he'd get it, before striding abruptly over to the door. He stood frozen, looking at the body. He couldn't. He _shouldn't_. But then what other option did he have? Gordon allowed himself a small smile, acknowledging the poetic justice of his choice.

…

Gordon gagged as he completed the process of extracting blood form a man whose heart was no longer working to pump it through is body. He watched the jar carefully, and the second it was full he pushed himself away, retreating to a corner of the room to recover. The stench followed him, clinging to his skin and clothes. He concentrated on breathing through his mouth, before forcing himself to return to Harley's body, clapping a brief, gentle hand against the shoulder of the fallen man. Then, in a few quick movements he had capped the jar and piled together all of the equipment that needed to be cleaned.

Once the purplish-red liquid was rinsed down the drain and all the tools were hanging up to dry, Gordon pulled his shirt over his head, dumping it on the bathroom floor. His jeans followed, and he stepped into the steaming shower. As the hot water melted his aching muscles he felt as though he wasn't just washing away the dirt and the smell of Harley's death, but as though he was also washing away his history and weaknesses. He needed those faults to be dissolved; he needed to be able to face his sister as a hunter – as a man.

…

He didn't know how darkness had arrived so quickly. He pulled out his weapons, choosing two long machetes for the night's work. But he wasn't going to use them clean. He also grabbed the jar from the back seat of the car and unscrewed the lid. Prepared for the smell this time he didn't recoil, pouring the congealing liquid along the blades, turning their silver sheen almost black.

He walked like a soldier, ramrod straight. He didn't bother to conceal himself, knowing they would be watching. He saw a flicker of movement in front of him and started towards it, but then, sensing something behind him, swung back around, chopping the approaching vampire's head clean off. It seemed to be the cue to attack. Suddenly five more vampires were closing in, fangs bared. Gordon swung his blades madly. His opponents were overconfident and weakened quickly as he opened their bodies to the blood on the machetes. Soon beheaded bodies and silence surrounded him.

He spotted a fire in the clearing, kicked a head out of the way and started towards it. His sister stood beside the flames, twisting a lock of hair around her finger, expression disdainful but unafraid.

'How did you get past the others?' She seemed almost amused, though she should have been wary, a lone hunter able to overpower a group of vampires on the attack.

'I've learned a thing or two since you've been gone.'

'So I see. You're still going to die though.' Selene smiled, allowing her fangs to slide down over her teeth.

'Don't be so sure of that,' retorted Gordon, his voice controlled, steady. 'But Selene, we should at least try to make this right. We've both lost someone we cared about…' He took a step towards her as he spoke.

'Someone we _cared _about!' She laughed mockingly. 'Well you might have found a brand new daddy, but I lost so much more. Latro… he was _everything_. And your little friend destroyed that.' Fury twisted her features, deepened her voice. 'He destroyed everything! You should have killed him yourself!'

Without warning she was up against him, shoving him so fast he felt like he flew the metres before his back slammed against a tree. Selene leaned close, her breath hot on his neck as she whispered in his ear.

'You didn't make him pay, _and _you didn't listen when I told you not to follow me,' she hissed. 'You really should have done what you were told, Gordy.'

She held him with ease and smiled wickedly as her fingers slowly tightened around his neck. Gordon's head felt like it was swelling with the pressure, his lungs were burning. His fingers grew cold and his mind distant as he realized that he was still holding one of the machetes. He just had to lift it.

The swipe was unfocused and weak, but it was enough to break skin, and Selene reeled back as the poison filtered through her veins. Gordon sliced at her again, but his body was still busy gaspingly replacing oxygen, and it wasn't a killing blow. The wound, enough to kill an ordinary human, still weakened Selene significantly though. She sank to the ground, struggling a little to breathe, her face upturned, eyes wide.

'Gordon, please…' Her voice was desperate. 'I'm sorry, I just, I can't help it. But you'll help me… won't you? You'll save me?'

Gordon, his breathing back under control, lowered the blade fractionally, hoping… but he saw immediately a brief spark of ruthlessness light up the vampire's eyes, and lifted the blade again. His sister stopped pleading when the metal struck her neck.

Gordon looked down, realized he was covered in Selene's blood. He'd have to shower. He straightened up and started to walk heavily across the grass, his mind straining against the night's events. When he reached the car, dropping the machete onto the backseat, he began to laugh uncontrollably, and his teeth flashed white against the dark sheen of his bloodied skin.

**The End. **


End file.
